


Business Called

by raspberriesnchocolate



Category: The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid
Genre: Angst, Crying, Death, Drinking, Excessive Drinking, Grief, Help him he's so sad, Mourning, sorry buddy ur friend is kinda dead, supressed memories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-11-09 02:43:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17993354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raspberriesnchocolate/pseuds/raspberriesnchocolate
Summary: Henry Hidgens' friends are all off doing business, right?Hidgens accidentally unlocks a vault of supressed memories, none of which have to do with business.





	Business Called

Business.

Henry Hidgens had a strong dislike for the word, associating it with his boys and how they left.

Because that’s how they left, right? They all went down that stock paved road, leaving Henry behind to dance a lonely waltz by himself.

Business.

That’s why they never talked, never visit, right? Of course.

Henry shook his head, watering a little plant one of his students had given him. It was small and frail, on the brink of death-

_Beep, beep. Beep, beep. Beep..._

_Beep._

_Beep._

_“Oh, no, no, don’t you dare-”_

_Beep._

_“Fight, Leighton, you stupid fool! C’mon, ya bastard!”_

_… beep…_

_The hand in Henry’s grasp went limp, cold and stiff. Henry’s heart stuttered at the sight of his best friend, small and frail. Those beautiful green eyes became glassy and Henry didn’t have the heart to close them. He stood and fled the hospital, tears streaming down his face._

_A bar was nearby, where Henry spent his next few hours, eventually getting kicked out._

_Leighton was dead. A simple disease took him._

The pot clattered to the ground, shattering loudly.

Henry cursed and stepped back, rubbing his head. What was that? Disease? Hospital?

Leighton?

No, Leighton hadn’t died of a disease. Leighton hadn’t died at all.

He was out there, looking over stocks and bonds and…

When was the last time Henry had seen Leighton? Henry thought hard, images flashing by in a whirlwind of color.

_He looked tough, even in the casket. Would he like the lilies? Henry hoped so, he chose them himself._

_Henry didn’t shed a tear during the funeral. Leighton would be offended if he did._

Henry stumbled to his panic room pantry, choosing whiskey at random, popping it open and gulping it down like water.

Leighton was looking over stocks. He wasn’t in a casket at Hatchetfield’s cemetery. He didn’t have a raised gravestone because Leighton wasn’t dead.

_“I miss you, you know.” Henry sits cross-legged in front of the tombstone, picking at grass._

_“It’s not the same when they play quarterback, Leights.” He admits with a sigh, brushing dust off the lettering._

_“I was gonna get you flowers, but I wasn’t really sure what you liked…” Henry stills, biting his cheek to cover up a whimper._

_“I should’ve asked.” A tear falls and his nails bite into the flesh of his palm, leaving crescents._

_“I should’ve stopped you from going to that backwater country.” His lip is bleeding, now. Maybe his hands are, too._

_“Should’ve gotten that doctorate in Biology, maybe I could’ve helped you.” He rests his head in his hands and sobs shake his body._

_“Should’ve told you I loved you, Leights. I should’ve, but now I can’t, because I never had the damn balls.” He whispers, furiously wiping his eyes. Leighton hated it when he cried. Always did something dumb to cheer him up._

_But with Leighton gone, there was no reason to stop crying._

_Henry doubted he would ever cheer up, either._

The whiskey bottle was empty. Of course it was. Henry could drink until sunrise, so why didn’t he?

A bottle of vodka went missing from the shelf a few minutes later.

He was so stupid, how could he forget that Leighton was dead?

“Fuck, Leights!” He shouted, pulling at his hair in agony. Henry’s tears stained the carpeted floor, but that didn’t matter, because Leighton wouldn’t come over and scold him for the mess, because Leighton was fucking dead. 

 

Henry woke up at ten the next day with a pounding headache and two empty bottles of alcohol.

His mind was fuzzy and his eyes felt puffy.

“Whiskey and vodka? These are for the reserves..” He said aloud, wincing at the cotton feeling in his brain.

“I can’t afford to drink like this, I have a class to teach. Maybe I should’ve joined the boys in business, instead.” He rubbed his eyes, chuckling softly at the thought of him beside his boys, pretending to understand graphs and numbers. 

He was never the best at that stuff. Him and Leights were pretty bad, which made it a surprise that the latter delved into the stock market. 

Henry wondered what Leights was doing at the moment. Probably looking at numbers, wishing that he stayed with Henry instead of whatever business he was up to.

Business.

Henry Hidgens had a strong dislike for the word.

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on the abandoned storyline that Nick talked about; the one where Hidgens' friends all died of a disease and that's why he's a biology professor and doomsday soothsayer.
> 
> Also I just want to write angst all the time but I'm better at writing fluff, I think.
> 
> Speaking of fluff (here comes the self promotion whoops), check out my other work, Miss Perkins and the Professor!  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/17524688
> 
> Thanks for reading, and sorry about the rushed feel of it all.


End file.
